This Path I Have Walked Before
by Auirel
Summary: The Dread Wolf won. The Veil has been torn down, and the magic has flooded back in, returning to the world and restoring the elves to their former glory. But nothing could excuse him from the cost. In destroying Thedas he accepted his death as the price he must pay. Only he did not die. Two hundred years on, Thedas is recovering, but war is looming once again, as it did before.
1. Chapter 1: The Wolf Who Hunts Alone

Chapter 1: The Wolf Who Hunts Alone

* * *

This time he watches.

He didn't watch before. He couldn't last time, he was already asleep. He never saw it all fall down, slipping, sliding down towards the stone. He killed the dreams and they all fell together. Faded and free, but they never saw each other again.

But this time he watches the sky. He has to watch, waiting and weary. Everything is falling upwards, backwards becoming forwards. The sky is apart and familiar, the curtains drawing back but he can't see on either side. He can't see, he can't, if he looks it all falls down again. He can't look and I can hardly feel her. But she's still there, holding him up, waiting, watching and weary. Weathering in the storm, the faithful flooded and washed away. A tiny thread tied together to the corners of the Fade, floating on an endless ocean of song.

She already forgave him, she already knew. The game is over, and the king and pawn return to the same box.

The Veil is shattered. Its cut crystal fragments are falling across Thedas, and the Fade is flooding through. He can finally feel it properly again, the magic is all flooding back. But he did not smile, because the world is burning.

He waits, watching the chaos of the unstrung Fade wreak havoc on the world around him, until it's far too late for him to halt its course. Solas tears his eyes away from the merging green sky and back down to her. He would surely have collapsed from the effort of bringing down the Veil, if she had not been there to stop him from falling over. Solas blinks and tries to smile at her, but he cannot. He had hoped a tiny insignificant hope, that when the Veil fell and the Fade was free again, he could finally see her spirit for what she truly was. What he had always glimpsed from her, shining brightly through the Veil, disturbed only by the passage of her magic like the wind.

That was before she started to die.

It began happening nearly a year ago. His plans had been in motion and progressing well, the Qunari had been crushed, and the Tevinter slaves had been freed, rebelling against their masters. The elven artefacts they stole so long ago had been returned to him. His spies had reported whenever they could of her actions, where she went, who she was seen with, what she was researching, but the information was always scarce and often hardly useful. She had continued to seek him out in the Fade, not always, for she knew he would not allow it, but she seemed to keep hoping every time she dreamt that she could convince him otherwise. She left clues and questions for him to find, on paths they often found themselves on, asking about the Blight and the Old Gods. She convinced spirits to communicate with him, to close the gulf between them. Her magic grew stronger, her spirit shining brighter than ever as she began striding down new paths of magic, soon outstripping the capabilities of any Dalish Keeper or First in memory. By day and night she experimented, gathered information, formulated theories, all to convince him to stop his plans.

Then one day she stopped trying. She began to actively avoid him. From the reports he had gotten, she had seemed weaker as if suffering from disease, but her body was physically healthy. After that the reports stopped, and Solas realised that she had allowed them to do so before then. He received no more messages and the clues never came again. Worse, her spirit began to dim and become quiet in the Fade, growing darker and colder until could not resist searching for her, to try to understand what had gone wrong, to talk to her. And still, she avoided him.

Now, what was once a marvellous spirit had almost faded away completely, an echo of what she should be. He wound her hair between her hands, cursing himself, but of course knowing full well that he forged this path. She was dying; from something that he could not understand, but they were all dying anyway. He should not be surprised that she did not want his help. What options had been left? It was this, or let the Blight consume the world.

No. You don't deserve this. You never deserved this. That's why she forgave you. She didn't want you to die. She wanted to help you. Not your goal. You.

Leave here Cole, Solas thought. You cannot help me. Find a safe place to endure the chaos. Let me be.

"He wants to help," she whispered. Her eyes were calm and still, lingering, but not pierce him, but that gaze still drew his heart upwards.

"Compassion is what this world will need the most from now on," he murmured, "It needs to be built on that foundation."

She nodded slowly. She looked down at his arms around her, frowning, "You idiot."

Solas frowned, "I'm sorry?"

"Your hand," she nodded at it, charred by the overwhelming power he had channelled through himself, "You've burnt it."

Solas could not tell if the statement was of genuine concern or an attempt to inexplicably lighten the mood. Both seemed too weak to want to argue the point, it was almost comical at this point. Solas could not smile. The Veil was almost completely gone, a thin green line receding towards the horizon, a whip cracking at the tip to unleash more chaotic bolts of energy over the horizon. The sky rumbled in protest.

"Why did you come here, vhenan?" he asked, "You should be at peace. You should be comfortable."

She looked down at the hard rock beneath them, "You're right, this isn't very comfortable," she said through a parched throat.

She had not lost her humour, despite the affliction riddling her. In fact it seemed drier than it ever had been.

"Could you have stayed away, if it had been you?" she asked. Solas felt his eyebrows knit together, his eyes pulling upwards.

 _Of course I could not. We are both too stubborn._

Solas shook his head, "What has happened to you?" he asked. There was so little time left. He could hear the hurt in his own voice, as if she were somehow responsible for the disease afflicting her spirit.

She was silent for a long while, watching the Veil fragmenting and falling around them, the green fires burning outward like sunlight through trees, before finally regarding him, "Something broke, I think."

"You gave up."

She stared at him. There were no tears, her face barely moved but even with such a diminished spirit, he could tell that the statement had hurt her. Just a tiny frown and twitch of her eyes as she looked away. It stabbed at him again. She should be more than this. She glanced up at the sky. A bolt of energy struck some distance away with a roar, cascading energy billowing out in all directions at high speed. Solas saw it and shuddered. That firestorm will soon reach them.

"Yes," she said to it.

"Then why come here? Why choose to see me now, after all this?" Solas asked desperately.

She looked away from the burning sky rapidly approaching, down to his chest, then back up. Moving slowly on weak muscles, purposefully, she put a hand gently over his heart, "To pass on a message," she whispered to him.

Something warm and glowing passed from her hand to his chest; Solas almost didn't feel it as the heat of the approaching firestorm grew. New magic. Its light lit the side of her face and brought more life into her eyes for an instant. He shut his eyes quickly, capturing the image in his head and placing it alongside the others as they flooded into his head unwittingly, images of happier, simpler times when he should have known better. He pulled her into a binding embrace and kissed her fully, his unburnt hand lost in her hair as everything grew hotter. It was selfish, but it hardly mattered anymore.

"Solas," she breathed the treasured secret, barely audible above the roar, "Vir suledin, ar'shiral sumeil vhenan, sahlin din'an'melana."

Then suddenly, she pushed him hard. Solas felt himself lose balance and fall backwards, and before he could react, she was on top of him, magic streaming out from her glowing eyes and body, her skin seeming to dissolve from her back towards her front. He cried out in horror, before the world went white and hot and shuddered as he felt himself leave the ground behind.


	2. Chapter 2: Harbinger of a New Age

Chapter 2:

* * *

The distant smell of spring rain startled his senses, and he awakened. A cool breeze tickled his feet where the blanket had not covered, and an early sun shone dimly through the forest mist to gently light his face.

 _Sleep well?_

Solas lay there for a while, listening to the sounds of birds and morning animals, watching the trees bend and shimmer in the wind far above him. A heavy gust would at times send a shower of leaves and branches down from the canopy and the birds would fly away in alarm, chaos for a short while, before flying back to sit in the same places as before.

 _What happens to the birds when you cut down the tree? Where do they go?_

His stomach rumbled angrily, and Solas rolled over to find his backpack sitting on the log. He had not packed any food, and he had not believed that he had needed too. He was not staying here for long however, and he would return soon.

Solas sat up, yawning and stretching, his dreams had made him feel particularly rejuvenated, which infuriated him to no end. It was one of the two most important reasons why he travelled here, for a good night's sleep. Hopefully, this experience was merely an outlier, and not an indication of a worrying trend in the future.

War had touched nearly every part of the world by now, at some point in history, but this place, this clearing, atop a lonely, clouded peak by comparison was bloodless. It was a place where demons were all but absent, but spirits were a rarity here too, as people did not think to tred here. He'd spoken briefly to the few that remained, those spirits of wisdom and peace contemplating knowledge in solitude.

Solas sighed, shaking his head. Focus on what is here, he told himself. He listened again, closing his tired eyes to hear again the birds in the trees, the smell of rain in the distance, the breeze sweeping above and cooling him.

He stood up, placing a hand on a nearby tree, feeling the magic flowing calmly through its thick bark, around him, undisturbed. He let himself lean against it, breathing quiet, steady breaths until he was calm again.

 _I'll wait for you._

He'd been here for too long, despite the calm. It took him too far out of present concerns, and too far backwards towards more pleasant times. In silence, he rolled up his blanket and mat, slipped his travelling robe and backpack on, dismantling the wards with a flick of his wrist. He kicked dirt over the embers of his campfire and as tiny droplets of water floated effortlessly onto his bald head, he journeyed back along the hidden path back to the Eluvian.

Stepping through its electric blue surface, Solas emerged into a secluded corner of the Crossroads, smiling at Trust as the spirit turned its icy form towards him.

"That smile is the same one Esalavhin gives his followers," Trust murmured knowingly.

"Is it?" Solas wondered, "Are you so privy to the hidden meaning of each and every one of his smiles, Trust?"

"Indeed. He feels dirty every time he smiles like that. I would too. Like when he said he loved Milathinan, but he said the same to the woman in his bed."

Solas and Trust bent under a group of drooping vines, hiding the pathway behind them. Of course, it was not the only deterrent to the passageway. Trust turned and its icy form flashed bright, and a rather featureless wall appeared behind them. It was indistinguishable from the rest of empty courtyard they found themselves in, floating in the sky above an ocean of clouds. "Perhaps he loves them both," Solas offered.

"He doesn't."

"Ah. And he does not know which one he does love," Solas realised, stepping towards the entrance and together the two passed through the Eluvian there, arriving in a shadowed corner. The sound of singing magic and laughter bubbled from the arched passage ahead.

Trust gave him a curious look as Solas waited for the conversation to die, "I do wonder what it is you do inside that place."

"I simply sleep there, in peace," Solas replied descending the stairs from the Eluvian as Trust locked it.

Trust floated past him, "Simply sleep," it repeated, amused, "That seems an impossibility for you."

Solas easily mirrored Trust's curious expression with one of his own, "Is that a measure of tact I detect?" he said, glancing at Trust from the corner of his eye as he stepped around him.

"More than just a measure, my friend," Trust said, "Tact implies uncertainty, it opens you up, makes you believe you are in control."

Solas chuckled, "And what more do you know about this matter that you are declining to tell me."

Trust looked into his eyes, "I respect your privacy Solas, but I know people. People lie for a thousand reasons, not all of them malicious or selfish. Esalavhin smiles when he lies because he does not know which one he loves. He will be forced to betray one's love, in exchange for the other. But he knows this already. He has done it before. And not a day goes by when the look of sorrow on her face haunts him."

Solas smiled briefly, "Indeed," he glanced upwards towards the sky, curious as to the time, "Forgive me, Trust," he said, "I should return to the Ar'somniaran soon before my absence is noted."

Trust smiled fully, "It's no trouble my friend. Farewell."

Trust spun and passed through the wall to its right. Solas blinked after a long moment to find himself reading the endless inscriptions of Elvhen architecture on the wall. Only, there were other, less talented inscriptions laid out over it. He wondered if the owner of the building knew that it acted strangely because of the graffiti, or perhaps she had made the inscriptions herself, to better its performance.

His heart gratefully silent, Solas stepped out of the alley with a hood thrown over his head and back out into the sun.


End file.
